


I'll Always Be There

by PoesAd_LiB



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Domestic, Dysfunctional Relationships, First Kiss, Hatred, M/M, Memories, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:32:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2108265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoesAd_LiB/pseuds/PoesAd_LiB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank and Gerard have been with each other for years, through thick and thin, mostly thick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Always Be There

Frank met him when he was drunk. He listened to him as he flirted drunkly with him, talked about scientific theories and societal gender exceptions, all while his arms and hands gesticulated erratically with his intelligent words, he almost seemed sober, but he wasn’t. At first he didn’t mind, in fact he was quite charmed, but he hadn’t expected them to have a serious relationship. If someone would’ve asked him back then if he thought they’d be together in the near future, he would’ve scoffed at the idea, claiming that he didn’t date drunks.  
  
He doesn’t even know why he accepted to the first date, or the all the dates after that, Gerard seemed drunk during all of them.   
  
They moved in together after three years, Frank was absolutely positive that he loved Gerard with every fiber of his being, and when the sentiment was returned, Frank thought maybe he could deal with all the alcohol issues..... He was wrong.   
  
Years went by and they were still together. And well Gerard...he continued to get drunk. Frank dealt for many years, because he loved, loved some much with everything he had, that he couldn’t, _wouldn’t_ allow himself to give up.   
  
But someone who can love so strongly....can also hate as equally. Eight years flew by, and Frank watched as Gerard intoxicated himself, damaged himself, _hated_ himself. Their days were spent away in their jobs, their nights together were spent arguing. Arguing over how the house smelt rancid with alcohol, arguing over the fact that Gerard always came home late, arguing over the fact that Frank thought he was being cheated. It became routine, the anger, the yells, the furniture being thrown around and broken, the tears, and the forgiveness. It all became routine, and the pair expected it every night, it almost seemed rare when they didn’t fight.   
  
When Gerard wouldn’t come home, Frank would search in all the bars in town to find him. When he would find him, he would die with anger at the jealousy of watching Gerard drunk off his ass while he flirted with random strangers. He would start a scene at the bar and drag Gerard forcefully out of it, and drive them home, all while arguing. When they would get home, they’d start to argue and break furniture, some times they would even throw physical blows. Eventually they would tire and one of them would sleep on the couch.   
  
When Frank didn’t find Gerard in any of the bars, he would go straight home and proceed to send him threatening voicemails. When Gerard would eventually come home, they would argue continuously, until they would grow tired and fall asleep, together.   
  
After all the years Frank learnt not to care, nothing he could say or do would change Gerard. He watched Gerard rot himself, and sometimes wished that his beautiful pale skin would rot along with his insides. He grew to hate Gerard, all while loving him. On ‘good’ days Gerard would buy two packs of twenty- four, bring them home, and drink there. Frank hated those days more. He hated them because he would witness the pathetic tragedy that was his lover. He watched as Gerard would slouch on the sofa and drink can after can of beer. The beer would make him obnoxious, loud and _hungry_. Gerard would watch the t.v high on volume, and when he would grow hungry he’d destroy the kitchen in look for food. He would eat everything he found that he deemed would satisfy his needs. He would leave the plates dirty and kitchen a mess, in his search he would forget to close the cupboards and would leave them wide open, Frank hated that. Frank would watch as Gerard _stuffed_ his mouth with food, and his own mouth would fill with a vile taste.   
  
He hated Gerard. He wanted him to rot and die. Wanted to scratch at his skin and leave raw scars. He would have dreams in which Gerard would get injured and Frank would watch and think _you deserve it._ Every time he saw Gerard, his eyes would burn with anger, and distaste, he had stopped kissing Gerard years ago, the lips he use to stare at in want have now become tainted with poison and he now stares at them with revulsion. Gerard’s body disgusts him, his stomach had become large with the foul liquids he had drunk, the skin around his belly had become taut and hard, like a balloon filled with cement.  
  
There were times where Gerard would be sober for at least three days, but Frank honestly couldn’t see the difference, after all the years of consumption it seemed that Gerard was always drunk.   
  
Sometimes Frank’s mom would ask him why he didn’t bring Gerard for a visit, he claimed they were too busy. The thought of his mom conversing with the drunk of his life embarrassed him, shamed him to his bones and made his eyes water. His mom had only met Gerard once, sober. Frank didn’t know what shamed him more: Hiding Gerard from his mom, or just plainly hiding Gerard.   
  
Frank stopped befriending people after years with Gerard, he was a jealous man. Most of the acquaintances he would make during his jobs never knew about his life outside of work. They would invite him out, he even thought that he maybe had a crush on colleague, but the thought of liking any one other than Gerard sounded wrong to him.   
  
Frank was snapped out of his thoughts by the calling of his name.  
“What?”   
“Are you okay Frank?” Gerard asked, worried eyes shining bright, reflecting the candle in between them. Tonight was a good night, Gerard was sober and had taken Frank out for dinner, for their 15th anniversary in a fancy restaurant. Frank stared at his eyes, his beautiful shiny, hazel eyes. In them he saw all the love Gerard felt for him, all the adoration, the care.  
  
In his eyes, he saw all the times Gerard was there for him. Making him laugh, making happy even making him sad and hurt. He reminisced all those times they laughed about anything and everything together. He remembered those times when Gerard would care for him when he was sick. He recalled all the places they went to. All the times they have fucked, and loved. All the things they have tried and experienced.   
  
He remembered their first kiss.   
  
Under the bright glow of the streetlight on their first date. Their lips moving tentatively, passionately, and curiously. Their lips fitting together like a jigsaw puzzle. Frank’s first _perfect_ kiss with anyone he had ever dated. The first time where he ever felt that he was capable of loving.   
  
The orange glow of the streetlight where they kissed is the same color to the candle between them. Looking perfect, with Gerard across, shadowing the side of his pale face, his eyes glowing radiantly with love.   
  
“I’m okay, with you, with us. I’m perfect only with you. I love you.” Frank responded as a shy smile graced his lips.”   
  
“I love you too.” 


End file.
